The tragedy of us
is that we couldn’t overcome
ourselves
To become who
we were meant to be
—sharing the greatest gift of all
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
The tragedy of us
is that we couldn’t overcome
ourselves
To become who
we were meant to be
—sharing the greatest gift of all
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
The reality of who we were
destroyed what we were
—as the thresher kills the rose
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
That’s the way life is…
greatness wrapped in a tattered box,
lined with regret
compliments laced with a negative refrain,
hiding the truth
Fear and delight masquerading as one,
chanting behind the mask
—that’s the way life is
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
When you love someone,
you claim part of their spirit
Trading affection
—as the emptiness fills
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
Most of our lives are spent
icing the cake
Covering the substance
where meaning partakes
To coat and embellish
what we most try to hide
Distracting, misleading
—shrouded inside
(Dreamsleep: July, 2019)
I survived the 60’s,
can I ask the same of you…
With soul in tact, my body wracked,
and conscience split in two
My parents now have I become,
these days of future past
With bloodshot eyes and memory owned
—by that decade not to last
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)
Will you
Or won’t you,
Can you
Or can’t you,
Another paradox
Unclaimed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
I found my voice
Beyond all choice
A waited friend
Beyond the wind
I found the words
Once cast astray
To line my path
To lead the way
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Dragnetting with the spoken word,
trying to trap what you can’t see
Unbaited, your net cast far and wide,
in a dark and foreign sea
Over and over, you pull in your lines,
with nothing again to show
The prize you seek, swimming wild and free
—at a depth you’ll never know
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Prose on one side, verse the other
—distance in between
The bridge has burnt, the Muse now two,
each seeing only green
The breaths that flow are then contained,
no synergy allowed
The chasm deep between their words
—whose river both endows
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)